How Do You Shop in a Time of Profound Anxiety?

How do you shop when the whole world is falling apart? Do you continue to want to buy things in a time of profound anxiety? Does fashion still offer the refuge, the joy, the pure pleasure it is meant to provide?

We surveyed the Vogue.com staff to find out what, if anything, is giving us cold comfort in these wild times. Maya Singer insists she is looking for things like the R13 combat boots that recently saw her through the streets of Washington, D.C., along with “statement earrings, inspired by the strong earring game showed off by Angela Davis and other female activists in the documentary The Black Panthers: Vanguard of the Revolution.”

Michelle Ruiz plans to wear her politics on her chest. “The only thing I really want to buy right now is a ‘Not My President’ T-shirt,” she says. Selby Drummond thinks, “With all of the amazing wording, signage, and conscious commerce, buying has taken on a new meaning. I know Paravel is painting protest signs and slogans on bags—I feel it’s an age of loudly standing up for what you believe in, especially by donning the appropriate look!” And Daise Bedolla cites this quote from Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie: “There are different forms of resistance. Sometimes just the fact that one continues to do what one is doing is also a way of speaking out for something.” It is worth noting that Adichie is responsible for the “We Should All Be Feminists” slogan that rocked the tees on Valentino’s runway last fall.

Of course, for many, there is a conflict at the heart of spending money on yourself when there are so many causes crying out for attention. Catherine Piercy, proud new mom of the gorgeous Valentina, says she has transferred her “terrible shopping habit to baby stuff . . . Honestly, I really can’t look at the images of the bodega owners sitting in prayer at Brooklyn Borough Hall and how important that is, and know how much it must have cost them to close for the day, and then go buy a $1,500 bag or something. But in buying things for Valentina—cozy, cheerful things for her room—I feel like I’m trying to create a warm safe place for her where all this bad stuff doesn’t exist.” Likewise, Dayna Carney says, “I find myself constantly looking at things to make me feel better, but am not buying. I always think I could donate the money toward something that matters—ACLU, Planned Parenthood, et cetera—rather than new shoes and so on. But I have found myself looking more at beachwear—swimsuits, beach bags—and airline tickets to get out of here, to a happier, sunnier place.”

A happier, sunnier place—who doesn’t want to escape to that Valhalla? Alas, we are stuck in the here and now, and some staffers are making the best of it by patronizing small businesses and artisans. Laird Borrelli-Persson likes to visit the shops in her little town: “I feel connected to the place and the people and that gives me a sense of community.” In far-off London, Sarah Mower is on the lookout for “things that cheer me up, which are handmade by people I know-—fashion direct action, as in, money straight to support the maker.” Chloe Malle says that she is “trying to fight the feeling of total powerlessness by shopping at stores and websites with ethical and ecological values, such as Maison de Mode, and those supporting artisans in developing countries.”

Of course, in times like these, is it any wonder that people seek solace in the mysterious, the unexplainable? (Because, who can really explain what has happened in the last two weeks?) Samantha Adler says her eBay watch list is “full of evil eyes, hamsas, mano figas, horseshoes, Saint Christopher pendants, and the like.” In addition to supporting her fellow females in any way she can, Lainey Sidell admits to a newfound enthusiasm for crystals. “I kind of just needed something to believe in. Some types of crystals are ‘programmable,’ ” she alleges. “One of my three crystals is a small pendant, which is less cumbersome than carrying loose stones around . . . I know it’s a bit funny, but I do feel they bring me some level of protection. And that’s really necessary for me right now.” She is not alone in this: In addition to being inspired by the radical style of Kathleen Cleaver—cat-eye sunglasses, trenchcoats, lots of turtleneck sweaters—Chioma Nnadi is drawn to precious jewelry, “talismans to ward off the bad vibes and juju of the current political climate. I’m wearing a necklace with five jangling charms on it as I write this! I’m definitely missing an evil eye—I need to shop for that.”

On the other hand, sometimes there is just no substitute for the succor that comes from really beautiful material things. “Depriving ourselves of simple pleasures in the spirit of standing in solidarity will diminish our optimism,” Sean Felton argues, and her colleague Edward Barsamian certainly seconds that emotion. “Anytime something terrible happens, my easiest recourse is to shop,” he confesses. “It’s not trivial or silly, but needed. Now is the time when we will witness greater creativity on the racks and runways . . . During this frenetic start to the year, it appears that Hermès has, yet again, become my savior. A friend lent me his Kelly, which hopefully he has no intentions of reclaiming . . . And while this could be considered an haute band aid, it’s one that I’ll wear with pride to the next protest.”

And what of the compulsive shopper who is writing this article? Okay, full disclosure: I just spent way too much on a diamond, sapphire, and ruby ring that says “Glasgow Exhibition 1901” around the band. Think of it! This little jewel has witnessed the victory of women’s suffrage, the triumphs of the civil rights movement, the rise of Nelson Mandela, mass protests against the war in Vietnam, the Paris student uprising, the White House bathed in rainbow lights celebrating gay marriage, and, last January 21, millions of people taking to streets all over the world.

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